The Pale Horse of Pestilence
by Yesm777
Summary: Through his own stubbornness, Constantine falls ill. Zed is determined to set him on the road to recovery, Chas close beside her. Friendship. Sick!Constantine.
1. Stubborn Dabbler of the Dark Arts

_Author's Note: Just to say, this is my first Constantine fic. However, I'm in love with the show and hope they decided to keep it for another season. Before I get into the fic, know that I'm not a registered medical professional and do my best with what I can find at my fingertips. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think._

**1\. Stubborn Dabbler of the Dark Arts**

"You're sick." Zed sighed, folding her arms. John shot her look, as if questioning her intelligence.

"Wha' gave it away, love?" he muttered sarcastically, rubbing wearily at his eyes. "Don't tell me…" He paused, as if for effect. "You saw it in a vision." He grinned shamelessly, uncorking a bottle of holy water. Zed frowned, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh, ha ha." she snapped, taking a few steps towards him. "But, seriously, you're not healthy enough to go running off across the country."

"Oh, sod off. I'm fine." he grumbled, pouring some of the holy water into a smaller container. Zed's eyes caught on the way his hands shook, the water sloshing softly within the glass bottle.

"I'm just saying, maybe you should push it back a couple days. Make sure you're at a hundred percent." Zed huffed. "No use getting yourself killed because of a little flu."

John turned to look at her, an argument brooding in his eyes. He inhaled deeply, preparing for a lengthy excuse, only to fall into a hacking cough.

"You've _got_ to stay home." she growled.

"I don't have to do anything, love. It's a free country." he shot back, his voice coarse and strained. He threw her a shrug, grabbing his coat as a few more coughs tumbled out of his mouth. "Bloody hell."

Zed folded her arms, carefully masking the concern pressing heavily against her chest. As he pulled his coat over his shoulders, she thought of the fresh flurry of snow fluttering to the frozen ground outside.

"Maybe I should go with you." she sighed, barely tearing her mind from the chilly, bright white world beyond the front door.

"No." he grumbled, carefully setting a few items in his bag for last minute preparation. "I want you to take it slow for a bit."

"Well, you can't go alone. Not like that." she huffed, desperate to keep him from throwing himself into more self-harm.

"I won't be." he murmured. "Chas is meeting me there."

Zed narrowed her eyes in frustration.

"Fine." she groused. "Don't do anything stupid."

He thought about it for a moment, squinting as if he was digging deep into his neural depths. "Eh…can't make any promises, love." he finally muttered, closing his bag with a snap before heading up the spiral staircase with a wheezy pant.

Zed's head began to swirl with second thoughts, even as the front door slammed closed. She took a few steps forward, contemplating whether she should run out after him. With a sudden shake of her head she was already running up the staircase to beg him to stay.

Zed had only made it halfway up the stairs when she heard the sound of an engine and the hum of a vehicle driving away. She dropped her head with a heavy sigh, glumly dragging her feet back down the steps.

One of these days, John was going to get himself killed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Zed frowned at the charcoal drawing in front of her. Oddly, she'd drawn a picture of Chas. Honestly, she hadn't been paying too much attention, too wrapped up in pointless strings of thought. She didn't like being left behind. Especially when John was clearly incapacitated by illness.

For the past three, agonizing days she sat on the couch, attempting to find things to do to pass the time. Books had become too slow, art too tedious. It was a painful, torturous waiting game. She hadn't heard from Chas and John was never much of a communicator, despite how much he liked to ramble sometimes.

With a huff, she dropped her sketchbook to her lap, her eyes roving slowly over the quiet millhouse. She thought about going outside, but then remembered the frigid air blasting her face from the last outdoor adventure. It was still snowy and freezing, just as it'd been for the last few weeks.

At least it would give her something to do.

She let the idea sit for a moment, allowing it time to convince her of its merits. Zed supposed there was no harm in it. It would definitely justify a cup of hot cocoa.

A jolt zapped her body as the front door angrily swung open. She shot up from her seat, alarmed that she hadn't heard anyone drive up. It was a surprise she hadn't been expecting and wasn't certain if she should prepare for friend or foe.

It quickly became apparent who it was that had startled her from her new, boring lifestyle. Slow, heavy steps came down the stairs, a familiar grunt dropping from the higher floor. Chas. Relieved, Zed allowed herself to relax, only to stiffen again as she sensed something very off.

Chas slowly came into view, struggling as he supported a nearly unconscious John Constantine.

John's eyes were half open, a soft cough continually flicking from his lungs. From her place on the lower floor, Zed could hear the unhealthy rattle in his chest, threatening John's air supply.

Exasperated, Zed moved to help Chas, quickly moving to take Constantine's other side. She nearly gasped as his frozen hand brushed over her neck.

"How the hell could you let it get this bad?" she hissed, glaring expectedly at Chas. Chas glanced at her guiltily, moving his gaze straight ahead.

"It wasn't really this bad for the first couple days. I mean, it was…bad…I guess, just not this bad." he explained hurriedly. "But then there was some broken ice…freezing lake water…and you can probably guess what happened from there."

Zed let out a scoff of disbelief, shaking her head angrily. She was angrier at herself than Chas, knowing that she should've forced Constantine to stay in for a few days. Instead, she practically watched him walk out the door, already dead on his feet.

The two of them gently laid John out on the couch, wincing as a particularly ripping cough clawed from John's lungs.

"Get some blankets and pillows." Zed ordered heatedly. Chas immediately shot to his feet and out of sight. Zed sighed, rubbing John's chest for warmth as she seated herself gingerly on the edge of the couch. She pressed her lips together in rising concern, attempting to quell the queasy swirl in her stomach.

John was settled uncomfortably on the edge of unconsciousness, only awake enough to continue his steady stream of coughs. His bare skin was almost painfully icy, shivers trembling feebly through his body. He wasn't wearing his usual garb, instead clothed in a sweatshirt that was much too large for him and some equally oversized sweats. Zed had the feeling Chas had dressed John in whatever dry clothes he had on hand, even if it was his own clothes.

"What have you done to yourself this time?" Zed sighed, smoothly sweeping her hand through his blond hair. She tried not to dwell too much on the pale pallor of John's skin as Chas came trotting back with several blankets and pillows. Grabbing Chas's load from him, Zed quickly went to work, stuffing a pillow under his head before she covered him with a mound of blankets, tucking them in snuggly around his body.

"Keep an eye on him." she huffed, her eyes still lingering on the unhealthy color to John's face. "I'll get him something warm to drink."

Zed tore her gaze from the ill exorcist, making her way purposefully to the small kitchen area. Her movements were abrupt and quick, focusing heavily on her task to keep from sinking into her worry. John was never the type to lie down and die. Even after the exorcism of Pazuzu, he managed to make a crack and offer a weak smile. It was unnerving to see him so quiet.

After settling the kettle on the stove, she allowed herself a moment to contemplate the current situation. It wasn't entirely unexpected, nor was she surprised. The more time she spent with John, the more sense she made of him. He threw himself into ridiculous situations, spurred on by well disguised guilt. She was certain the abuse of his chosen profession made him feel better, like he deserved it.

Although, he had probably never been told that he didn't.

He had so much hardship and blame that sat heavily on his shoulders. To him, he wasn't allowed to take the time to be sick. He wasn't allowed any real rest when there was work to be done. It bothered Zed, the way he wrote off his own wellbeing so easily. And yet, nobody really understood because he hid so cheekily behind jokes and a faux carefree attitude.

She let out a steady breath as the kettle began to whistle, crying for attention. Zed snatched it from the stove, turning off the burner. She poured the hot water into a mug, the preselected tea bag already sitting inside. With another puff of breath, she moved to pull the milk from the refrigerator, eyes glancing at the digital clock impatiently to make sure she didn't let the tea sit too long. She grabbed the honey while she waited, knowing full well that John preferred sugar. Too bad, he was getting honey.

When she was satisfied that the tea was done steeping, she pulled the bag from the mug, pouring just the right amount of milk and squirting honey into the mix. She dutifully stirred her concoction, already on the move to return to the couch.

Chas had pulled up a chair to sit beside his best friend, keeping a close, but worried, eye on the blond. He looked up as Zed approached, moving to gently prod John awake.

"Hey, buddy. You've got to sit up for a minute." Chas pressed softly. Zed heard a groan, though it was strangely raspy and strangled. She winced, her own throat aching in sympathy.

Chas stood from his seat, offering it to Zed instead. She gave him a nod of gratitude, sliding into the chair as she carefully settled her hand on John's stomach.

"John, I need you to drink this. We need to warm you up." she crooned, her brow pulled up sorrowfully. Beside her, Chas moved to help John sit up for a little while as he stuffed another pillow behind the demonologist.

John eyes cracked open, squinting painfully against the dim light of the room. He took a deep breath, the ragged pull of air setting him into another flurry of weak coughs. Constantine hardly had the energy to manage that, despite how badly his body wanted to expel whatever it was that sat in his lungs.

"Here." Zed whispered, offering the mug of tea. He could barely take it with his two shaky hands, eliciting a silent, steadying grip from Chas. Chas helped him take a few gulps, frowning when John barely achieved that small feat.

John's face scrunched up in weak disgust, his weary eyes immediately searching out Zed's.

"Honey?" he rasped, his voice diminished to a nearly inaudible whisper.

Zed nodded, allowing herself a small smirk as she saw a glimpse of the Constantine she knew. "It'll help your throat. Quit being such a baby and drink up."

Zed could swear she saw a small quirk at the corner of his mouth. He continued to sip at the tea, only able to take small mouthfuls at a time with Chas's help. Zed and Chas often exchanged looks in silence, waiting patiently as John finished up his mug.

When he was finished, Zed returned the mug to the kitchen as Chas settled John back down onto the couch. John's eyes were closed within seconds, the ragged breath clawing painfully within him.

As soon as Zed returned, Chas mumbled something about needing to unload the cab and disappeared up the spiral staircase and out the door. She tried to think nothing of it, hoping to chase away the growing panic. Zed was afraid of what Chas saw when looking at his best friend, having known John for much longer. Perhaps he'd seen something there that she hadn't. Perhaps he'd seen something that made all this worse than she could even fathom.

"Why the long face, love?" John whispered, his eyes only slits. Her gaze met his, the glassy dimness of his stare setting her on edge.

"I told you to stay home." she mumbled miserably, pursing her lips in an attempt to hide her concern.

"I'll b'fine." he slurred, slowly blinking as his features relaxed. A few coughs escaped from his chest before his body settled on a deep slumber, pulling what little oxygen it could from the air in painful, long breaths.

"I told you not to do anything stupid." she muttered, dropping her head into her hands. She shook her head, unsure of what to do next. Zed thought vaguely about the hospital, but knew Constantine would rather hole up in the millhouse.

She lifted her head to look at him, watching him sleep amongst the bundle of blankets and pillows. He looked smaller than he'd ever had before, Chas's oversized sweatshirt doing nothing to help. John's face was pinched in discomfort, his body subconsciously pulling the blankets closer around his body as he battled the chill in his core.

Zed sighed, uncomfortable with such a vulnerable Constantine. He was normally so in control. Seeing him this way seemed to press a horrifying reality into Zed's mind: John was just as fragile as the rest of them.

It was easy to forget. After all, he'd shake off everything like it was unimportant. In the first few moment's she'd known him, he'd nearly got himself killed in a supernatural flood of muddy water. It didn't help that a wild coblynau had held him under. Even while hacking out his lungs, he pushed that he was fine, mumbling something about thinking up a spell before she saved him.

But that was John Constantine.

Zed scooted her chair closer, sweeping stray hairs from his forehead. She ran her fingers through his hair, slow and soothing. Zed smiled to herself as the lines on John's face softened, finally relaxing properly.

"Take a break for once." she muttered, letting her hand card through the blond locks.


	2. Hospitals and Personal Demons

_Author's Note: Wow! Thanks for all the great reviews! I'm glad you like it so much and I hope it fulfills your expectations and wants. I think this will end up being a multi-chapter fic, so stay tuned for more chapters. Looks like there's a lot of talk about 'Constantine' being moved to SyFy and renamed 'Hellblazer' after the comic. I'm crossing my fingers!_

**2\. Hospitals and Personal Demons**

John had slept for a good part of two days, waking only when Zed forced more tea down his throat. At some point she'd even managed to get him to drink some vegetable soup, serving it in a mug to make it easier for him to drink. He did everything she asked without argument, hardly saying a word.

Chas was often roaming nearby in case John needed him. Zed had never seen the bigger fellow look so uneasy, wandering needlessly around the main area, looking for something to occupy himself with.

The general fatigue from John's bout with freezing water was beginning to drift away, being replaced instead by harsher and harsher coughing fits. Sleep came less and less as his body struggled to expel the collecting phlegm. Zed was often startled awake by the rough tear of a cough, scraping deep within his chest. What was once discomfort was now near unbearable pain, his lungs worn raw by his ongoing suffering.

Zed's worry ratcheted after a particularly bad fit, John hardly having enough room to breathe between hacks. As he fell back to the pillows, exhausted and out of breath, Zed led Chas to a quieter portion of the room.

"Should we be taking him to the hospital?" she whispered, getting seriously frightened by his condition. How was he expected to recover if he couldn't even breathe?

Chas thought about it for a while, eyes glued to the exorcist on the couch. John really did look like hell.

"I'll warm up the cab." he grumbled, moving quickly towards the stairs.

Zed nodded, even after Chas had disappeared, realizing that perhaps they needed the help of modern medicine. For all they knew, John needed antibiotics.

She turned to John, biting her lip as she saw his body jerk with suppressed coughing. Quickly shrugging on her coat, she went to the side of the couch, gently caressing his shoulder.

"John, we're taking you to the hospital." she hummed, watching as his eyes cracked open.

"What? What did Chas say?" he rasped. Zed gave him an apologetic look, prompting a painful sigh from John's lungs. "I must look like shit."

She smirked humorlessly. "Understatement of the century." Zed softly squeezed his bicep, eyes tracing the weary lines of his pale face. "We just want to be sure you're okay."

"I'm okay, love. Promise." he whispered, offering the best grin he could manage.

"That's great, but we're going to take you to the hospital to make sure." she replied, throwing him an expectant look. "Chas is warming up the cab, but you're going to have to make it up the stairs."

He thought about it for a moment, his eyes closed wearily. After heaving a hefty breath, he nodded, moving to sit up from his place on the couch.

Zed helped him get ready for the trip outside, noting the way he seemed to sway in place as she helped him put shoes on. Every now and then, he'd say a few words, as if to pretend that he wasn't close to collapsing. He did his best to be his old self, but it felt watered down compared to his usual strong, sarcastic personality. Zed almost told him not to try so hard, just so she wouldn't have to watch him push through the misery.

It took him awhile to make it up the stairs, but Chas was waiting at the top in case he had to swoop in and help. As soon as they got outside, Zed slid into the backseat with a pillow on her lap. Chas helped John into the seat beside her, where he shamelessly fell to lay on Zed's lap. She smiled and shook her head, glad to see that John still held onto his brazen beliefs.

After Chas had thrown a blanket over the coughing demonologist, he quickly ran around the car and fell into the driver's seat, speeding towards the hospital. As John fell asleep, Zed began dutifully rubbing circles on his back, easing him into an easier slumber.

When they got to the hospital, it was almost painful to wake John. He shot them a look of betrayal as they shook him awake, carefully pulling him from the backseat. His face twisted in an anguished combination of confusion and complete misery.

Zed helped guide him to a chair in the waiting area as Chas went to fetch the paperwork. The two of them sat in silence for awhile, John slouched down as he huffed through his mouth. Zed wasn't sure if she should make any move to comfort him, or if she should leave him to his own devices. She could never be sure what John Constantine wanted.

She watched him carefully, observing the way he seemed to sink lower and lower in his seat. His eyes gleamed with a dark glimpse into his wretched soul. She could tell he was tired. Perhaps even too tired to hide the depression that swirled deep in his gut at every given day.

If he thought about everyone he cared about dying—all in the first five minutes of the day—who's to say what he thinks about during all his free hours.

"You okay, John?" she prodded, settling an arm around his back. He jerked from his reverie, startled by the human contact. As if caught off guard, he cleared his throat, nodding jerkily to chase away her worry.

"What is it? What's the matter?" she pressed, sensing something was wrong. He'd never fallen into a depressed stupor like that before, especially not in front of her.

"Just tired, love." he rasped, offering her a tight smile. She frowned, but said nothing more as he returned his weary gaze to the floor. Zed glanced up at Chas every now and then, realizing that he'd decided on filling out paperwork near the desk while simultaneously asking the nurse various questions. Zed sighed and leaned further back in her chair, returning her watchful eye to her skinny, little charge.

She perked up immediately when John turned to stare at her. His mouth opened and closed a couple times, his body practically melded with the seat. She thought he was about to faint, but was surprised when he asked a question instead.

"You have those headaches often?" he asked, his voice but a whisper wheezing into the open air. Zed was slightly confused, wondering why he'd suddenly shown an interest.

"Pretty often, yeah." she replied, watching him warily. He nodded slowly, his gaze falling away almost immediately.

"Are they worse with your visions?" he asked. Her brow dipped in confusion.

"Why are you asking me this, John?" she inquired, suspicious of what was poking at his brain. While John had shown pointless curiosity before, this was different. Something lurked behind his words that worried her. Something shy and guilty.

John didn't reply directly, just shrugging casually in his seat. "Just wondering." he whispered.

Zed shifted in her chair to stare directly into John's eyes. "Look, John. It's not a big deal. A few headaches are a small price to pay for my visions."

He shook his head, suddenly looking ten years older as his dark eyes bore into hers. "There is no such thing as a small price to pay in this business, Zed."

Zed froze in her seat, suddenly understanding. He was worried. He was worried something was going to happen to her. Not because he needed her and not necessarily because he wanted to keep her around. He was worried about her wellbeing. He didn't want her to suffer like so many others.

Suddenly realizing what he'd just said, John looked away to avoid her gaze. "I told you, there's a price to pay when you do what we do. Maybe it will be just a few headaches. But…most likely…it's not going to stay that way."

"John, stop. Why are you even saying this?" she ordered softly, frightened by his frankness.

He stayed quiet for a while, shaking his head in an almost methodical beat. "I just want you to know what you're getting into." he rasped.

Zed folded her arms, wearing her fiercest look. "You've been trying to chase me away since day one, always telling me about the horrible things that are going to happen. Well, guess what? I'm still here and I don't plan on leaving."

He turned his head just enough to look at her out of the corner of his eye. Silence sat heavy between them, strange and condemning.

"Why?"

The single word came out as more of a wheeze, strained and coarse. However, Zed could easily feel the dense emotion in the small answer, her heart squeezing uncomfortably.

She could tell that John had been waiting for her to leave. He'd been waiting for her to abandon him like everybody else.

Despite herself, she smiled, taking a hold of his forearm with warm comfort. "Because, I've never been happier than I am now, using my visions for something bigger than myself. If it fails, it fails. But this is where I belong."

John thought about it for a moment, breathing deeply as something rattled dangerously in his chest. He was snuggled deeply in his seat, unable to sit up on his own for long.

Zed elbowed him softly, pawing at his attention before he slipped into another daze. "You can't get rid of me that easily, even if you are a stubborn ass most of the time."

A small smile lit up his face, Zed counting it as a small victory.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, making a subtle effort to raise his spirits. He tried to groan, but without a voice, it simply came out as a pained wheeze.

"Like my damnation came early." he whispered, giving her a slight Constantine smirk. He looked down at his hands for moment only to glance back up at her with his brow furrowed. "You think I could light up a ciggy?"

Zed raised her eyebrows in disbelief as he offered his most charming of smiles. "You better be kidding." she growled flatly.

"Eh, it was worth a shot." he chuckled breathlessly, dropping right into a harsh outburst of coughing. He leaned forward as he hacked away at the phlegm in his lungs, becoming more and more desperate for relief.

Zed reached out and patted his back, waiting anxiously for a deep inhale of semi-healthy oxygen. He finally managed to suck something in, only to fall back into a terrorizing clump of coughs. Zed looked up to see Chas watching them worriedly, his pen tapping impatiently against the paperwork.

John finally managed to reign it in, a small, lingering cough still poking its way out of his lungs. He rested his arms on his knees, leaning over to rest his head groggily against them. Zed rubbed circles on his back, willing health to seep into his bones. Of course, nothing ever happened the way you wanted it to, even with a little bit of magic and spells.

Zed pressed her lips together as she realized John was shivering gently beneath her hand. She had a feeling it wasn't so much about the cold as it was about the exhaustion. She barely noticed Chas's approach, so focused on the deteriorating blond before her.

"Paperwork's done. Doc will be with us in just a sec to check him out." Chas reported, sitting on John's other side. He shared a look with Zed, listening intently to the rough, raspy breathing beside him. "Nurse said they'll most likely send John home with some antibiotics. An overnight stay isn't necessary if we'd rather refuse."

Zed nodded, glancing worriedly at John who seemed almost on the verge of passing out.

"If he's still conscious when we get into the exam room." she mumbled. She had her doubts.

"I'll be fine." John wheezed, his head still resting against his arms. "We'll be back at the millhouse before we know it…with Zed's _fantastic_ honey tea."

Zed smirked to herself, shaking her head. At least he still had his sarcasm.

She sat up straight in her chair when she saw a doctor in a long, white coat wander into the room. He looked around searchingly, glancing down at the file in his hands.

"John Constantine?" he called.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Now you know what the doc said. You have to rest." Chas reprimanded. John was leaning nearly all his weight against Chas, unable to support most of it himself.

"Yeah, yeah, sod off, will ya?" John hissed. "Zed's already on my back about getting my beauty sleep."

Chas leveled a look at John, the demonologist rolling his eyes in rebellion.

"You can't even walk by yourself, John." Chas growled.

"You have a point." John sighed stubbornly.

Chas helped him settle on the couch again, giving him another warning look.

John spread his arms as wide as he could with a feeble body. "I'm not going anywhere, Chas."

Chas nodded sharply, satisfied with the result as he wandered off to make some kind of food for the three of them.

Zed was at John's side immediately, tucking blankets here and there as she threw him a glance or two. "You're going to rest until you're _fully recovered_, understand? No 'good enough', not even 'almost', when you're _fully recovered_."

"Yes, mum." John huffed, burrowing comfortably into his mass of pillows. He wasn't willing to admit it, but if felt like heaven after suffering through the hospital.

His eyelids were already getting heavy as they fought to close. He wasn't sure if he was quite ready to sleep, Zed's blurry figure moving beside him. Maybe it wouldn't hurt anything to rest a bit. He could close his eyes for a little while. Just a little while. Just until…

Zed tugged off his shoes, throwing them carelessly to the side. "And you better not—"

She stopped abruptly as she caught a glimpse of John already slumbering in his nest of blankets. He snored softly, the usual scrape of sickness grating out of his lungs. She blew out a breath, plopping heavily into the chair beside him.

"Of course you're asleep." she whispered, managing a soft smile on her lips. He needed his sleep after all.

But, more importantly, he needed reprieve from reality. Even if it was just for a moment.

Heaven knew he needed to get away from his own demons.


	3. To Old Friends

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for all the reviews! I know a few of you were wondering if there would be more. Honestly, I couldn't decide for a bit, but I did want some meaningful interaction between Chas and John, even if it wasn't anything very dramatic. Just some warm, friendly banter between the two as Constantine rebels against his recovery._

_Thanks for reading! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter._

**3\. To Old Friends**

Chas huffed as he shook a pill from the orange prescription container. He clicked the cap back on, grabbing the glass of water standing humbly on the counter.

Constantine was starting to get restless.

After knowing the uncouth demonologist for so long, Chas had been expecting the sudden spike in agitation. He was surprised that John had managed to stay still for so long, no doubt due to the severity of his illness.

Zed had gone to pick up some groceries, leaving Chas in charge of the obstinate exorcist. It wasn't too much of a handful for him, despite Zed's unnatural knack for forcing Constantine into recovery mode. Chas had known the fool for far too long to let John push him around.

"Take this." he ordered gruffly, offering the water and pill to John. Constantine stared at the tiny tablet, his stare almost hateful.

"Why do I have to keep taking these bloody things?" he growled. His voice was slowly improving, being less of a soundless hiss and more of a gravelly grumble with bad reception.

"We already went over this, John." Chas sighed, mustering up the last of his patience. He dropped into the seat in front of the couch, leveling an intimidating glare at his best friend.

John didn't say anything, simply swallowing the pill with a gulp of water as he returned the leer.

"You feeling any better?" Chas asked. He took the glass of water, setting it carefully on the end table.

"I'm fine, Chas. I don't see why you two are treating me like a snot-nosed brat." John snapped, narrowing his eyes angrily. Chas merely smiled pleasantly, a dangerous threat rippling under the expression.

"If you keep whining like a baby, that's definitely not going to help." he muttered flatly.

John rolled his eyes, tilting his head against the couch in frustration. He sat up again to look at Chas, an annoyed plea in the lines of his face.

"You've got to let me get up and do something, Chas. I can't keep sitting around like this, doing absolutely nothing." he complained, his shoulders slouching.

"Then read a book. At least you'll be doing something." Chas countered, picking up a book of his own as he read about ancient Egyptian lore.

"Yeah, great solution tha' is…" John murmured, absentmindedly fluffing up his blankets. "Could I at least do a few spells?"

"Cutting your damn hand all the time? I don't think so. The last thing we need is some blood loss to add to your long list of problems right now." Chas refuted, not looking up from his book.

"What sod said I cut my hand all the time?" John demanded, his voice cutting in and out as it rose in volume. Chas said nothing, simply looking up with a flat stare. John deflated, huffing. "Alright, so I do tend to cut my hand a lot, but that's just the name of the game."

"Yeah, I know."

Constantine stared at his friend for awhile, the other man continuing his reading with feigned interest. "I hate you sometimes, Chas."

Chas's lips quirked up in a small smile, nodding. "Yeah, I know."

Exasperated, John blew out a lungful of air, sinking further into his spot on the couch. "The world is deteriorating as we know it and I'm sitting here—doing nothing—with a bloody cold."

Chas snapped his gaze up from his book, boring his eyes dangerously into John's. It didn't matter that Constantine wasn't looking at him, too busy staring at the ancient ceiling.

"John, you know this isn't all on your head, right?" Chas murmured, recognizing the usual lines of guilt on the exorcist's face. "The Rising Darkness isn't your mess to clean up."

"Yeah? Well, who else is going to do it? Kind of difficult to fight something you know nothing about, isn't it, Chas?" John countered heatedly. Chas knew it was his way of justifying his overzealous attitude.

With a sigh, Chas pushed his book aside, leaning forward as he settled his elbows on his knees. This wasn't unusual. John was excellent at hiding a myriad of human emotion. However, Chas knew him well enough to recognize the suspicious distance John kept between himself and the troubles at hand.

The poor demonologist had been subject to blame his whole life: his mother, Newcastle, Chas's own failing marriage...John seemed to take the brunt of every failure, even if it wasn't truly his fault. The result was John's undying need to make up for his sins. The Rising Darkness was just another opportunity for redemption. Even if that same redemption wasn't entirely necessary.

Chas blew a breath out of puffed lips, rubbing his fists together anxiously. "Well, you're not going to do the world any good if you drive yourself into the ground."

"I'm fine, Chas." John grumbled.

"The hell you are." Chas countered, his frustration getting the best of him. John glowered at him rebelliously from under his lashes. "When aren't you practically throwing your life away? If Zed and I weren't here for you, you'd probably be six feet deep in a grave by now."

"Would not." John spat. Chas leveled a look at his best friend.

"I'm pretty sure it was Zed that rescued you from bleeding out after you were captured by Papa Midnite. Not you."

"I can handle myself, Chas."

"Like how you handled yourself in Mexico…with Pazuzu." Chas deadpanned. John tossed his head in annoyance, a humorless smirk on his face.

"Alright, so I screwed that one up." John huffed. "You goin' to use it against me forever, mate?"

Chas raised his eyebrows as he picked up his book again. "If I have to."

John sighed, sinking into the couch as a few coughs tumbled out of his mouth. Chas watched him over the top of his book, drinking in the miserable expression on his buddy's face.

"We're always here for you, John. Even when you think we don't want to be." he said quietly, his eyes staring emptily at the pages in his book.

John looked at Chas, a silent solemnity swirling in his dark orbs. Chas didn't have to say whom he was speaking of. John understood. But, hell, Chas read him way too easily.

"We're not going anywhere." Chas sighed, peeking up at John over the top of his book. "Even when you've invited Pazuzu to the party."

John chuckled quietly, fiddling with his lighter. No matter how many times Zed tried to confiscate it from him, it still managed to find its way into his rough hands to be flicked open and closed.

Chas met John's gaze, the quiet gratitude settled shyly in the demonologist's eyes. John was never one to thank verbally. If you weren't looking for it, it was easy to miss.

But it didn't mean that it wasn't there.

Chas smiled, returning to his half-assed reading of his book. "You'll be fine in no time John. Then we can go back to traipsing about the countryside and you can slice open your hand all you want."

"Name of the game, mate. Name of the game." John laughed softly. He appreciated the way Chas understood him, assuring him in the subtlest of ways while never breaking from their normal, casual interaction.

Chas had always been the loyal friend he never deserved.

But, it was nice not to be alone.

_**END.**_


	4. Priorities

_Author's Note: **Carpathian Rose** mentioned in their review that they imagined Zed getting sick from John. Well, after I read that I thought about it. And I thought about it. And it poked at me. It prodded me. So, I had to write it, even if it is just a short little blurb. Thank you, **Carpathian Rose** for the inspiration! Enjoy._

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**4\. Priorities**

John was packing for another trip early in the morning. His lungs had finally cleared up, drowned out by a strong wave of renewed health. Feeling better than he had in weeks, the exorcists had decided it was high time he returned to the field. Hell knew he had a lot of work ahead of him.

There had been word of a strange number of occurrences in a single neighborhood, some blaming the hauntings for the site it was built on. Before it was developed for a quiet patch of suburbia, the land had been an old graveyard. Tattered and worn, the dead had been moved to a more suitable and grander home while the old burial yard had been torn down and bulldozed over. The odd incidences seemed pretty mild—considering what John had faced in the past—but work was work, no matter how small the case.

He was just stuffing another shirt into his bag when he heard a cough echo through the millhouse. John paused, listening intently as another ripping hack bounced across the place. He smirked, then frowned, mixed feelings poking at his gut.

Abandoning his bag, he wandered down the hallway. Chas had gone home to spend a little time with Renee, their marriage having found some repair after the whole fiasco with Geraldine. John couldn't be sure if it would last, but he was glad the bloke had found some happiness in this hellhole of a job.

Squaring his shoulders, he pushed his way into Zed's room, unsurprised to see her tightly bundled up in her blankets. He assumed the lump in the center of the mattress was the pretty, little psychic and moved cautiously into the room. Weary, large eyes opened slowly, staring blearily at the exorcist.

"Wha're you doin' here?" she mumbled tiredly, a few coughs tumbling from her mouth. He winced in sympathy, but hid it well under his usual rebel smirk.

"Got a bit of a cold, love?" he asked teasingly, watching her eyebrows gracefully arch in annoyance.

"No thanks t'you." she grumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around her.

He bit back a frown, instead inspecting her with concealed concern. "Sit tight, I'll be back in a bit."

John missed the look of confusion on her face as he briskly walked from the room, heading across the millhouse towards the kitchen. With practiced ease, he put a kettle on the stove and swiftly collected a few items for tea. When the water was hot, he carefully prepared the aromatic beverage, letting steep for just the right amount of time. Satisfied, he added a bit of milk, white blooming through the amber liquid and clouding its clarity. As he reached for the sugar, he stopped, smiling to himself. Without hesitation, he quickly opened the cupboard, pulling the honey from the shelf and adding a dollop into the mixture.

He tried not to think too long about it as he swirled the spoon around the cup.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he passed back through the main room and deftly punched a few buttons before pressing the device against his ear. Chas greeted him casually on the other end, still shaking off sleepy remnants of the early morning.

"We're going to have to investigate another day, mate." John explained quickly, not bothering to return the salutation. Chas made a quiet inquiry on the other end, his voice low and even in John's ear. "No, I think it can wait. Zed's come down with something." More talking from Chas. "No, no, nothing like that. Just a cold." There was a small wave of relief on the other end as John walked through Zed's open door, slowing as he approached her bedside. "I'll keep you updated, mate." After a quick farewell, he hung up and slid the phone into his pocket.

Zed looked up at him questioningly, her expression pinched in puzzlement. "Why aren't you goin'? I thought you had a case." she muttered roughly, coughing quietly.

"I did, but it can wait." he replied, helping her sit up as he offered her the warm mug. She latched both hands around the cup, weakly blowing the rising steam as it fluttered away. Zed gingerly took a sip, frowning as she looked back at John.

"Is there honey in this?" she rasped, her brow furrowing at the thought.

He smirked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, some bird told me it'll help a sore throat."

Zed smiled into her cup, taking another slow sip. "And you're not leaving this morning?"

"Something came up; I have more important matters to attend to." he replied casually, a hidden meaning under every word. It didn't escape Zed. John shrugged, pulling an old chair from the corner of the room. "Besides, it's bloody cold out there."

Zed grinned, suppressing another wave of coughs. She'd always understood how unorganized John's priorities were. It didn't take long for her to realize the case had always been more important than his own wellbeing, no matter the consequence. It took her even less time to understand that the proper preparation of tea came before the case. However, even among the jumbled, confusing mess, Zed was starting to see what stood at the top of his priority list. What left cases forgotten and tea incorrectly prepared.

Because it wasn't often John Constantine showed he cared.


End file.
